


Biological Imperatives (Can Go To Hell)

by Not_You



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Charles Being Concerned, Domestic Fluff, First Dates, Harm to Children, Heavy Angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Poor Erik, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Erik, Revenge, Self-Defense, Sexual Coercion, Stalking, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-18 21:18:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3584442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an A/B/O world where an Omega goes into heat if their child dies, Shaw tries to force the issue with Erik.  It doesn't go well for him, but Erik and Anya still need to figure out how to put themselves back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Being a single Omega with a child can be very difficult. Well-meaning friends and neighbors offering up Alpha friends who just love kids, the simple fact of being a single parent, and remaining social bias against Omegas all combine to make things harder. Erik actually is ''emotional,' but that emotion is often scalding rage, which has gotten a lot done in his life, like keeping him putting one foot in front of the other after losing Magda. Of course, he's as gooey with his little Anya as any other Omega. She's his reason to get up in the morning and to sleep again at night. She's beautiful and quick like Magda and good with math and space like Erik, and knows her name, age, and address even though she's still a week away from turning four. Anya is absolutely the light of Erik's life, but there are times he wants to wring her neck.

"No!" she yells, kicking as he tries to put yellow socks onto her feet. She wants pink, but none of the pink ones are clean and Erik needs to get to fucking work.

"Dammit, Anya! We're going to be late, and Papa can only get away with that so often."

"Want the pink ones!" She flails all her limbs and fixes him with a very fierce glare for someone who can't even be trusted to put her own socks on.

In the end, Anya wears dirty socks to daycare and Erik gets to work just in time. After way too long doing odd jobs and deciding whether to pay the electric bill or all of the rent, he finally has a decent gig and doesn't want to screw it up. He's one of the supervisors on the kind of high-profile job site that will lead to more construction jobs barring catastrophic luck, and for all the crap Omegas can catch in Alpha-heavy fields, his crew is all right. He probably helps with his cool demeanor and dry widow's scent, but still, they're good people.

It's a normal day until Erik and Anya get home. He clocks out and washes up, and stands in the cheerful yellow room where Anya spends most of his working hours, listening a report on her good health and mostly-good behavior. She's working on a block tower, and Erik is willing to wait until she finishes. She chatters away on the drive home and on the walk up to the building, and he's internally debating on what to offer her for a snack when he realizes that the door is unlocked.

Sebastian had seemed like a good idea for about three months before he had gotten pushy about getting Erik's heats to resume and way too possessive for someone who hadn't even met Anya yet. Now he's standing in the kitchen and smirking at them.

"Get out," Erik says, shifting to stand in front of Anya.

"Now, now, Erik. Is that any way to talk to an old friend?"

"No, but it's the right way to talk to you. Get out."

"All right, all right," he croons in that insincere way of his, and he's sauntering past them when the knife comes out. Sebastian always was quick with his hands, and that hateful silver flash is buried in Anya's chest in an instant. He shoves Sebastian away, but it's too late. Anya's little face is dead white as she slumps to the floor, and Erik is gone. He barely even remembers Sebastian dosing him with something and dragging him away because nothing matters. Nothing will ever matter again. Erik has always been a fighter, but there's no reason now. His reason is lying dead by the front door, alone. He didn't even get to cover her poor little body.

Erik wakes up crying, and there isn't even a moment of confusion about the important things. He knows Anya is dead and he keens with the knowledge, clutching his head and rocking back and forth on the floor of this hatefully well-appointed bedroom. He should be somewhere barren and cold, a prison. It's what he deserves for failing Anya, his precious baby, the last piece of Magda left on earth.

The door cracks open, and Erik's head snaps up as Alpha scent wafts into the room. It's rich and smooth, just a little peppery. Just his type, really, but it's Sebastian and that thought gets him up and moving, snatching up a heavy lamp and lunging for the monster that killed his little Anya. The door slams shut and Sebastian chuckles outside. Erik is expecting some form of reprisal, but he just leaves.

Erik sits back down on the floor and resumes rocking, shifting the lamp into his arms like a baby without even being aware of it. He's dimly aware that he should be trying to escape, should be up and pacing, trying the window and looking for hidden doors. This is clearly Sebastian's house, even if Erik had stuck to lower, more general rooms in his few visits here. But all Erik can think of is a pair of slightly crusty pink socks and a block tower, see-sawing between torture and consolation. At least she got the things she really wanted on her last day.

He must sleep at some point. The window is blacked out and nothing matters, but he opens his eyes aware that time has passed. He thinks of Magda out of nowhere, and his eyes fill with tears. His Alpha, always so good to him. He misses Magda's gentleness and her overpowering but still sweet scent, just edged with that peppery quality like a haze of fire. He misses her so much it hurts, deep inside. He realizes he's still holding the lamp when he curls up around the ache in his belly, and it all becomes horribly clear.

By the time Sebastian cracks the door again, Erik is wet, and he hates it more than he has ever hated anything in his life. He can feel the pheromones taking effect, warming and lulling him. On a very deep, very stupid level, all he wants is to snuggle into Sebastian's arms and take his knot deep inside, to fill the emptiness there and to give him another child, a new reason to get up in the morning and to sleep at night. But below and above and around and within that feeling is the grief, and with it the rage. There is no way Erik will present for the murderer of his child. He snarls even as bereavement heat swamps him.

"I've always liked how feisty you are, Erik," Sebastian says, and vanishes again.


	2. Chapter 2

Hours later, Erik has to grit his teeth not to moan at the wash of Alpha pheromones from the door. Even with his hormone levels higher than ever, he has attained a certain clarity. He is going to kill Sebastian. It's all he has left. After that maybe he'll throw his stupid, burning body from the top of a building. He likes the idea of splattering onto the pavement, as much of a mess outside as he is inside. Now he sets the lamp aside, even though doing it makes tears pour down his cheeks because he needs something to hold.

"Come here, sweetheart," Sebastian says, and Erik is hit with sense memory of being cuddled in his arms and feeling safe. That flicker just makes him hate Sebastian all the more, and it's a struggle not to snarl. Instead he crawls closer, dragging him down to the floor. He comes eagerly, and now Erik's heat is all mixed up with wanting to kill him. He's wet for that, for the idea that this closeness will let him get his revenge. Sebastian thinks it's actually for him, or close enough, and lets Erik snuggle into his chest. He gets contact and scent and not even a real bite before Erik slips the knife out of his pocket and buries it in his gut. He twists the blade and just keeps pushing as Sebastian gurgles and struggles and feebly tries to choke Erik before he goes quiet at last, almost as pale as Anya had been. It's not enough, and Erik rips the knife out to slash and slash at Shaw's face, obliterating it.

When it's over, Erik is still in heat and he doesn't care. He crawls back to where he left the lamp and wraps his arms around it again. He rocks it the way he would rock his little Anya, and doesn't even look up when he hears thumping and yelling from downstairs. Whoever it is, they don't matter. Nothing matters, and he's keening quietly by the time one set of footsteps approaches the bedroom. A wave of Omega scent washes over him, and a woman's voice speaks to him gently. He doesn't really process her words, but lets her help him to his feet and lead him away. Someone else tries to take the lamp from him and he snarls because it's all he has to hold.

"Erik," the woman says, her hand on his shoulder, "Erik! Erik Lensherr?"

"Yes," Erik manages to growl. His wallet is still in his pocket, but he doesn't have the will to bring it out, let alone look for his driver's license.

"Mother of Anya Lensherr?" she asks, very gently.

"...Yes." It's a broken whisper, and he doesn't even care that he's crying again.

"Come with me, Mr. Lensherr," she says. "Anya is alive."

Erik lets them take the lamp after that, and meekly follows Officer MacTaggert to her car. Despite having killed a man today he rides in front. MacTaggert tells him that Anya is alive again and again, because he's afraid there's been some kind of mistake. But no, his poor brave girl is there in the pediatric ward, with two cops guarding her and an Alpha social worker petting her hair and telling her that it's okay to cry but that they've found her papa and that he's all right.

"He's on his way, love," the man says, and Anya is the only thing that can distract Erik from his sudden awareness of how perfect his scent is. She's pallid and bandaged and connected to monitors, but she's his, his precious baby girl. He doesn't say anything to anyone. He just climbs into bed with her on the clear side and holds her carefully. She clings to him and they both cry harder, but it's okay now. They're together, and that means they're home. Erik covers his daughter with kisses, and she snuffles her story to him, that she woke up and the bad man had taken him away and her chest hurt. She hadn't been able to stand, but she had crawled down the hall and kept hitting the first door she found until the neighbor lady came out. Erik has barely even nodded at the woman, but Anya had been able to give her her name and address, and to tell her that the man who hurt her had taken her papa away.

"...and then I sleep," she says, her sweet, matter-of-fact little voice chilling Erik's blood. He glances up to see that everyone else is outside the privacy curtain, but that delicious Alpha scent is still there.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes?" the social worker pokes his head back in and he's so pretty it hurts a little. But even burning up like this, Anya's health is more important.

"Can I see the doctor?"

"They caught her on her way out the door. She's at home and hopefully sleeping the sleep of the just, but one of the assisting physicians is still here."

The assisting physician is another Omega, so Erik can actually listen when she talks. She tells him that his precious baby will be all right, but that Sebastian collapsed her lung and she lost over an ounce of blood crawling to get help.

"She's stable now," the doctor says, her voice very gentle as Erik's eyes fill with tears again. "Anya is a fighter, and she'll be all right as long as we keep her wound clean and make sure she gets plenty of rest."

"Hear that, baby?" he asks softly, and Anya nods.

"Sleepy," she tells him, and he laughs weakly through his tears.

"I bet, sweetheart. You just rest now. Papa's here."

She smiles, and is asleep in moments, with her precious little curly eyelashes and her perfect skin, the golden color of old ivory. Erik just gazes down at her for a long, long time. He feels like he should be asking the doctor more questions, but he can't think. Anya is here and safe and he's so tired and still aching inside with his heat. He doesn't know where to go or what to do or if he's in trouble for killing Sebastian, so he just sits with his baby girl and pets her auburn curls. He finds a towel, and puts that under his ass because his slick has started to soak through his pants. There's blood on his shirt, too, but he can't care about any of that. He actually dozes off while sitting upright, jumping awake and letting out a snorting growl when someone gently opens the curtain. And then he's gritting his teeth to keep back a whimper, because it's that same perfect scent, caressing his brain into even deeper uselessness.


	3. Chapter 3

"Mr. Lensherr, I'm Charles Xavier. I'm the social worker on your daughter's case. We can talk more later."

It kind of makes it worse, that he's such a gentleman. He keeps perfectly calm and gives Erik his card and then goes away. Then again, Erik wouldn't want some leering piece of shit looking after Anya if he ends up in prison. That worry is still distant, with his child lying here covered in bandages and monitoring equipment. He's watching her sleep when an Omega nurse comes in with a vial and a fresh syringe.

"Suppressant?"

"Yes, Mr. Lensherr. Emergency grade. I'm afraid we'll have to keep you for observation, but hopefully this will make you more comfortable."

"Not sleeping," he growls, still watching Anya.

"We thought you'd be against a sedative. There's a mild anxiolytic in here, but it shouldn't be enough to cause drowsiness."

Erik submits to a shot in the ass with bad grace, but is glad to change into a set of fresh underwear with an enormous and high-absorbancy pad, and a set of blue scrubs. The nurse says that the suppressant should dry him up, but it'll take his cloaca a while to get the memo. Erik never suppressed in his adolescence and hasn't had a reason since meeting and then losing Magda, and he wonders what side effects he'll get. It's good to be wearing something that isn't covered with blood and nervous sweat, though, and he dabs at Anya with wet wipes, feeling guilty for bringing anything of Sebastian here. Before long the need to hold her overtakes him again, and he falls into a doze on the edge of the bed until another nurse shows up and insists on moving him. 

He's still half in heat and accordingly surly, and the headache the suppressant has given him doesn't help. He growls, but moves out of her way. She's a stern, crisp Beta, and Anya needs to be checked over and cleaned properly and medicated. She wakes up and mumbles and cries a bit, because she doesn't like the oxygen prongs in her nose and her chest hurts, but she quiets when Erik soothes her and he tries not to start crying, himself.

"There, sweetheart," the nurse says. "You're doing very well." She finishes her check-up and strokes Anya's hair. "You should get some sleep, you know," she adds, talking to Erik now.

"I can't leave her."

She sighs. "Maybe we can find you a cot."

In the end, Xavier finds him a cot. He also calls Erik in to work and warns the preschool that Anya is mending from a stab wound, and Erik feels a deep and stupid urge to hug him. He's suppressed enough now to talk to him like a real person, and thanks him for everything.

"I"m just glad you're both all right," he says, and pats Erik's shoulder. "Sleep, we can discuss everything in the morning." He yawns, wobbling a little. "Or maybe the afternoon."

Erik thinks to check a clock for the first time since leaving the job site, and realizes that it's almost four a.m. "Shit," he mumbles, and Xavier laughs.

"Indeed. Sleep, Mr. Lensherr. You and Anya are safe here." The way he says it is soothing, and that plus the knowledge that Sebastian is as dead as Erik could make him allows him to sleep. Despite everything he and Anya has been through, he gets real rest, untroubled by nightmares, and only wakes up when another Omega nurse shakes him. He's here to give Erik another shot, and quite understandably doesn't want to be punched in the mouth.

"Can I get something for my head?" Erik mumbles, and the nurse brings him a pill and a cup of water.

"Here," he says, "that should help. I can't even use the one we gave you, the headache is so bad."

"Ugh. Thanks," he adds, downing the pill and feeling really strange. "...Am I going to be under arrest later?"

"Probably not. Xavier's working on it for you." He sighed. "I've seen a lot of horrible things, working here, but this..." he glances over at Anya where she's still asleep, all her various monitors calm. "I've got three of my own, and I can't imagine doing any differently. I'll say so if it goes to court, too."

"Thanks."

It really is a comforting thought, and he keeps it in mind when the police show up later. The worst part about it turns out to be letting Anya out of his sight for half an hour, but Xavier is here. He has dark circles under his eyes, but he smiles and says that watching her will be no trouble at all. Anya is wary now, but Xavier was there when Erik couldn't be, and she trusts him.

When Erik can finally escape, he's actually more relieved to see Anya happily sipping a juice box than he is not to be charged. Xavier has one of his own, and they're working together on a colorful and abstract picture, a plastic cup full of crayons sitting on the table between them.

"Papa!" Anya trills, and he almost runs over to stop her from hopping up to greet him.

"Be careful, sweetheart," he says softly, scooping her up into his arms. "You're not all better yet."

"Mostly better," she says, hugging him tightly. "Can we go home now?"

"Soon, I think."

He turns out to be right, and by nightfall they're headed home again with wound care instructions and pediatric painkillers and antibiotics for Anya, and maximum-strength suppressant tablets for Erik. His skin crawls because the last time he took his baby girl home it was the worst possible choice. He has to pull over halfway there and call Emma again. She's the closest thing he has to an Alpha these days. Magda sort of left him to her, and while it's annoying sometimes, he's glad to have a strong Alpha he can actually trust patrolling his apartment.

"All clear, Erik," she says by way of greeting, and he smiles.

"Thank you."

"And how's my darling niece?"

"Asleep."

"Good. I slaved over a nice dinner for us."

"Picked it up yourself instead of delivery? I'm touched." He honestly is, a little, and is glad to find her warming it up when he gets there. It's soothing the way it used to be soothing to come home to Magda's cooking, but so completely different that it doesn't hurt. Everything is in the big foil trays their favorite Italian place uses, enough of each dish to provide leftovers for days. More than anything it's like their Christmases since Magda died, which they celebrate with Chinese food because Emma can't cook and Erik is played out from making Hanukkah food. Once everything is in order Anya wakes up to demand 'polenna,' and Erik feels almost all right again.


	4. Chapter 4

It turns out that the neighbor lady's name is Angel, and it's so appropriate Erik can barely stand it. Even when he's newly home with his poor wounded baby, he sends Emma over there to make some attempt to express his gratitude, and spends a few of his sleepless nights working on a long letter. It's a struggle to put his feelings into words, but Angel Salvadore needs to know that she can call on Erik Lensherr for pretty much any favor for the rest of her life. He slides the letter under her door after adding a postscript to the effect that he is still very scattered and won't be much use for some time, as he's sure she'll understand.

It takes Erik a long time to even begin to calm down. The court-mandated therapy helps, but it makes Erik impatient. He really only goes for Anya's sake. She likes her therapist better than he likes his, and she adores Xavier, who spends a lot of time there as a consultant along with the meetings they need to have with him. He's a very soothing presence, an Alpha who understands that not everything in life is about posturing for dominance, and knows how to be gentle without being patronizing.

Even knowing that Sebastian is dead, even remembering the shock of puncturing him and the smell of all that blood, Erik compulsively patrols the house, and he doesn't even try to get Anya to sleep in her own bed. He doesn't want her to. That tiny, breathing presence is what keeps him sane when nightmares fling him into wide-eyed wakefulness. He can just lie there and catch his breath, his precious girl asleep beside him. Anya has improved so fast it's almost irritating. Her wound heals to a little white scar and aside from a few bad days when she over-exerts herself, she isn't in much pain. She doesn't even have as many bad dreams as Erik, but she does have them, and that makes him even more glad to have her so close. This way he can pull her into his arms and dry her tears, softly telling her that she's safe with Papa and that the bad man can never hurt anyone again.

Separation anxiety is still a major problem for both of them, and Erik has been given compassionate leave and an opening to ease back into full-time work. Erik is very good at what he does, and for once societal prejudice is on his side. If he were a mated Alpha he would be expected back already, on the assumption that his Omega would be both more deeply upset, and free to look after the child. As it is, he's just starting half shifts again, and his whole crew is ludicrously gentle with him. Their best Alpha and Beta instincts have come to the fore, all of them determined to help and guard a poor Omega so distressed about his child. Sometimes it's annoying, but he can't really resent it. When one of the welders comes to ask him something and finds him on the verge of complete panic, he puts his hands on the back of Erik's chair, bracketing him in a bit, and radiates what a lot of people call mediator pheromones, the chemical factor that mitigates both Alpha and Omega imbalances. He tells Erik that he's all right until he starts to believe it, then and gets him to call the preschool so they can assure him that Anya is fine and put her on the line to prove it.

Every weekday is a Pavlovian exercise, conditioning himself and his daughter to feel safe at home again. A little extra security has helped Erik's anxiety, but he still checks the place for intruders every day, and calls Emma way too often. She doesn't have time to visit every day, but she stops in as often as she can. She has a way of seeming to slouch without actually doing it, and looking vaguely guilty as she eats Erik's cooking. There's a school of thought that says that an Alpha should accept absolutely nothing from a distressed Omega and should in fact provide all food, never mind that Emma can burn water. She's so ridiculously old school and feels it all so keenly that it's sort of charming, but also one of the major reasons they're not a mated pair, despite how convenient it would be.

After a while Erik wonders why Anya's case is even still open. And then he goes on lunch break one day with a slight headache already building and his mood a little unstable with his prolonged suppression. He's breathing evenly and has even ordered his sandwich. He's just waiting for it, and he'll be able to take it and get the fuck out. And then an Alpha who smells a little too much like Sebastian crowds him. He's tall and close and when Erik edges away, he moves with him. He probably doesn't mean any harm, but he's in Erik's space, and he starts talking to him in smarmy tones that take Erik back to that moment. He still sees the room around him, and he smells this Alpha's own scent, but the memory of Sebastian's is all woven up in it, with rage and hatred and terror.

It starts with a hard shove, just to get room to breathe, but of course the Alpha takes offense and gets close again and this time it doesn't end until the entire dining area is trashed, tables overturned and the glass over the sandwich toppings cracked and everyone fled or cowering. Erik stands in the middle of the devastation, shaking and snarling. The man he started fighting is long gone, and the police are here. An Omega officer comes up to him, telling Erik that no one is going to hurt him, but that he needs to come with him.

"No," Erik says, barely recognizing his own voice. "My daughter."

"Sir, I'm sure we can--"

"No!" Erik doesn't care that this is an armed cop, doesn't care how many laws he has already broken. He will keep Anya safe or fucking die. The cop looks a bit helpless, and then another joins him and Erik growls, edging back before he recognizes MacTaggert.

"Mr. Lensherr?"

"...Officer MacTaggert." Some of the panic and rage drains away.

"Yeah," she says. "Look, you've made too big a mess of things for us not to arrest you, but I'll call Xavier for you. He took care of Anya before, right?"

Erik is forced to concede this point, and lets them cuff him and lead him away.


	5. Chapter 5

MacTaggert lets Erik watch her call Xavier. He stands there in his handcuffs and listens as she apprises Xavier of the situation. A last she hangs up and turns to Erik again.

"He'll pick her up and see about your bail," she says, her voice very gentle.

"Thank you," Erik whispers, starting to feel weepy instead of enraged.

She pats his shoulder. "It'll be okay. Come on." She takes him down to holding and locks him in with a few drunks and a panicked shoplifter. He hates being kept away from his baby girl, but at least she's safe. Xavier will look after her. He was there when her wound was still bleeding, and he'll be there for her now. Thinking about that and breathing deeply are the only things that make the next hour and a half even remotely bearable. At long last, though, Emma makes his bail. Erik collects his personal effects and follows her out, tense and miserable, something deep inside him convinced that Anya is dead. Whatever it is seems to crack open when he sees his precious baby in the back seat, her tiny face just peeking over the bottom of the window.

"Anya insisted on Xavier coming with us," Emma says. "I hope you don't mind."

Erik shakes his head. He doesn't really care about anything right now. He just climbs into the back seat and holds Anya in his lap, breathing in her scent. He can't bring himself to let her go for an instant, and carries her into the building when they stop. "Mr. X should come up with us," Anya mumbles, tired and clingy.

Before Xavier can say anything about rules or boundaries, Erik says, "Yes, he should," and gives him a pointed look.

"Thank you," he says, and meekly accompanies them up to the apartment and submits to being served warm milk with honey. Anya tells him all about therapy, but doesn't leave Erik's lap even once. Charles is very kind to her, and is full of useful advice for Erik on legal representation, relevant laws, and for getting more out of therapy. "You are allowed to change if there's no rapport, you know," he says, and Erik snorts.

"'No rapport' is an understatement." He sighs. "I just thought I was doing better than this."

"Erik, you have shown remarkable courage and resilience," Xavier says, his voice almost unbearably kind. Erik has always liked sweet Alphas, and takes a long sip of milk to compose himself.

"Thank you." It comes out more quietly than he wants it to, but steady. "And to think, I'm not even your primary client."

"It takes a village to raise a child," Charles says, and the way he smiles isn't smarmy at all.

Anya giggles. "You're my favorite, Mr. X." Erik's heart melts, and he's not sure it doesn't show on his face.

In addition to being Anya's favorite, Xavier is able to get Erik off the hook except for damage costs and some time on probation. It feels like nothing short of a miracle, and he can't stop hugging Anya, even when it makes her fuss.

"Papa!" she growls, batting at him with chubby hands. "You hug too much!"

He just laughs and lets her go, still feeling perilously close to tears. Anya is safe and they're together and that means everything. His entire reason for being throws herself to the floor to play with blocks, oblivious. Erik just watches for a bit, and then heaves himself up off the couch to start dinner. It's a nice touch of normalcy to have Emma coming over, and some deep Omega instinct is soothed by being in the warmth of the kitchen with his child close by and knowing that there's more than enough food for everyone. He's never going to really stop missing Magda, but he feels a sudden and distinct pang of just wanting an Alpha. He's still suppressed, but there's more to life than knotting. He misses Alpha scent on himself and his things, he misses that rumble a contented Alpha makes that is more touch than sound, and he misses that tender, proprietary embrace that Sebastian had been able to fake for a minute or two at a time.

The doorbell rouses him from a reverie that has turned dark on him, and Anya scampers over to it, going up on tiptoe and touching the knob, but not opening it until Erik comes over and looks through the peephole. He had had her trained to do that even before Sebastian tried to kill her. But of course, the bastard is safely dead and Emma waiting outside with a bottle of wine and a bakery box. Anya adores her Aunt Emma, and is always happy to see her. All the more so when she brings cake. Early on in Anya's recovery Erik had had to keep her from jumping up to greet her, but now he can allow her to jump right into Emma's arms and Emma can spin around until the two of them are completely dizzy and need to sit down. Soon Emma is braiding ribbons into Anya's hair, and Erik smiles softly, setting the table for three.

Another symptom of Erik's anxiety and guilt over the whole mess is to feed Anya within an inch of her life. She certainly needs enough good food to keep her strength up, but tonight she falls asleep right after dinner, completely stuffed. Emma chuckles, sipping her wine.

"The child isn't a foie gras goose, Erik."

He sighs, easing Anya into his lap. "I can't seem to help it." He kisses the top of Anya's head, where her curls are so like Magda's, and she mumbles in her sleep.

"I don't think most Omegas could," Emma says, and waits while Erik puts Anya to bed and sets up the baby monitor. He has a hard time leaving Anya alone to sleep without it, and Emma has the graciousness not to mention it when Erik returns with it stuffed into his pocket. He sets it on the table beside the wine bottle, and they linger over the last drops in comfortable silence. A few breathing sounds and little mumbles of Anya's come through the monitor, but otherwise the apartment is quiet. Erik suddenly feels another huge, weepy surge of gratitude, and takes a deep breath, trying to control himself. Emma watches him for a moment, and then gets up and comes around the table, putting her arms around Erik's shoulders and hugging him gently. He lets his head rest on her belly and sighs.

"You need an Alpha," she says softly, and Erik can't muster a better argument than rolling his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

The months roll by, and things are almost the way they were before. Erik still wakes up in the night to make sure that Anya is breathing, and stands there in the mingled streetlights and moonlight just breathing with her, the very beat of his heart keyed to the rise and fall of her tiny chest. Her breathing is strong and silent and hypnotic. He still occasionally wakes up early, cramped and chilled, having fallen asleep on the threshold, but it's not happening as often these days. Anya finds her way into his bed with fears and nightmares, but that's happening less, too.

Angel Salvadore turns out to be an excellent babysitter. She's a stripper, which as far as Erik is concerned, merely means that she's usually free when he needs a hand during the day. It's still a wrench to leave Anya for anything, but his new therapist that he gets along with better is right. He has to relearn how to be away from his baby, and it's a lot easier with Angel promising that she'll paint Anya's toenails for her when Erik drops her off, and giving her a fond hug and telling her that it's always good to have Beta time when he comes to pick her up. Besides paying Angel for her time and trouble, Erik fixes the various plumbing leaks and ceiling cracks that building management never gets around to.

After long months of being steady and useful, Erik finally takes a heat leave. His boss is good about it. Gives him two whole weeks when heat hardly ever goes past ten days and Erik has always capped out at a week. "Hey, Lensherr," she says, as he turns to walk out of her office, "take _three_ if you need 'em."

He smiles. "I probably won't, but thanks."

Erik spends his heat in bed, and mostly alone. Anya is little enough that as far as she's concerned Papa just smells funny, though, so she joins him whenever he's not actively doing his best to take care of himself. Emma takes Anya to and from preschool, and pokes her head in with a scent-blocking mask from time to time to make sure that Erik is all right. At the highest pitch of his heat he almost asks her to tie him and damn the consequences, but when it finally wears off, he's glad that he didn't. He's also glad that his little Anya is a Beta, and will never have to deal with this shit. The vulnerability that comes with heat hasn't depressed him this much in a long time, and he's glad to get back to work.

This strange post-heat lowness intensifies when Xavier officially closes their case. Anya pouts and cries a little because he's still her favorite, and he has a strangely helpless look on his face as he shakes Erik's hand one last time and walks away. He leaves a business card behind in case they ever need to contact him again, and Erik puts it in a desk drawer and spends the rest of that Saturday afternoon comforting Anya. She likes Xavier even better than he knew, and it takes repeated applications of ice cream, hugs, and tickling to cheer her up.

Erik suppresses again for his next heat, mostly so he can keep Anya company. I upsets his stomach and makes him short-tempered with everyone else, though, which is very unpleasant. He and Emma almost have a nasty fight, but Anya wakes up from her nap so upset that Erik forgets everything in favor of comforting her. Rocking his daughter and apologizing for getting angry, he looks over her head to bring Emma in on it, too, and she smiles a little.

Much later they share some bourbon and have a long talk about Erik's next heat. He can't keep suppressing. It's too deeply associated with Anya nearly dying. They even talk about Emma taking care of him for the first time since Magda died, but the idea doesn't really excite either of them.

Emma sighs, swirling her glass a little. "I'm sure we could _manage._ You don't actually smell foul or anything, but it would be a dutiful, joyless hump, and I think we'd both feel unclean afterward."

Erik laughs, sipping his own drink. "Maybe a little, yes. I bet you don't even have the kind of knot I like." He favors the truly round kind, high and distinct.

She smirks at him. "Nope. Very smooth. Hardly any pop at all."

He smirks back. "Yeah, I like a little more definition." They both snicker like kids, and feel a lot better for clearing the air.

There are services, for Omegas in need. Erik can call up a certified and reasonably anonymous Alpha to take care of him if he wants, an Alpha with an entire command structure to answer to. The idea leaves him a lot colder than the thought of sleeping with Emma, though. In a fit of desperation he actually goes to one agency on a day off and goes through their catalog of pictures and scent strips, but no one smells sweet enough for Erik. Scent has always mattered the most to him and he doesn't like the murky and acrid notes that are so damn common. Maybe it's for the best. Another sweet, dopey week of cuddling Anya whenever he's temporarily sated enough might be nice, but damn it, he had been looking again before this whole mess, and now the longing is getting unbearable. 

One sleepless night he finds himself picking through his desk drawer, and there it is. He lifts Xavier's business card carefully, and almost before he knows what he's doing he has it poised just under his nose. He's not really expecting it to still hold any appreciable scent, but there's that smoky sweetness. It's not much like Magda, and that's a good thing. Xavier is quieter, for one thing, and dryer, the way males tend to be. His sweetness is darker, too. Magda had been bright and sharp like honey, but Xavier is murkier, more like date syrup. There's a subtle richness to him that keeps Erik captive for a long moment. When he finally snaps out of it, he sighs. There's a really awkward conversation in his future.

The next morning is a Saturday, so he can take his time, dressing Anya in her favorite pink romper and serving her a beautiful bowl of rich oatmeal with strawberries. She quickly turns it into an unholy mess, but most of it ends up inside her and not on the floor, which is what really matters. He smiles, watching her, and then calls Emma and Angel first, making sure that between the two of them, they can keep Anya occupied in case he does end up working out his heat the old fashioned way. That done, he gets Anya's face and hands washed and sets her up with some cartoons and some clay, and then calls the number on Xavier's card.


	7. Chapter 7

The first stop is a recording, some calm, female voice. Erik enters Xavier's extension and then the phone seems to ring forever. It really can't be more than three times or so before Xavier answers.

"Charles Xavier, how may I help you?"

"...It's Erik," Erik hears himself muttering truculently. "Erik Lensherr."

"Oh." The tone of happy surprise in his voice is very gratifying, and the deep, genuine Alpha protectiveness when he says, "Are you and Anya all right?" is even more so.

"We're fine," Erik says, still a little quiet but sounding less sullen to his own ears. "I'm a little surprised to find you there, actually."

"I do come in on weekends, but tend to leave early."

"Can I call you after you do?"

After a puzzled silence, it seems to dawn on him. "Oh, you mean at my personal number."

"Yes. What I have to discuss is personal."

"All right," Charles says softly, and gives him the number. "I'll probably be home about two hours from now. Will that work?"

"Yes," Erik says. "Thank you." Unsure what else to do, he hangs up and then agonizes over how cold he sounded. Luckily for him, Angel is awake by the time he can call Xavier, and quite willing have Anya over for brunch when Erik explains the situation.

"Come on, kiddo," she says, reaching down to take Anya's tiny hand, "you can have some horchata and help me pick out a dress." Anya goes happily, and Erik feels a little weepy the way he does every time he thinks of Anya's taste for horchata, discovered months after Sebastian would have had her dead. He takes a deep breath, and calls Xavier again.

This time he picks up almost instantly. "Hello?" He sounds like he has no idea if this is one of the good or bad kinds of personal, and Erik can't really blame him.

"Hi. Is this a good time?"

"Very, I'm on the sofa with a drink."

Erik chuckles. "Good. I hope you've been well."

"I have. You and Anya?"

"Getting better. I can actually let her out of my sight, now."

He sighs, and Erik can see that old of look of gentle exasperation as clearly as if Xavier were in the room now. "Erik, you have been nothing short of heroic. Please."

"I think that's the first time you haven't called me Mr. Lensherr."

"You said this was personal."

"It is, Charles." Erik feels himself blush and is glad he's not broaching this subject face to face. "I... I trust you. And Alphas I trust are in short supply."

"I see."

Erik sighs, running a hand through his hair. "My heat is coming up again and I hate suppressants. Will you look after me?"

"...Oh." He sounds stunned and maybe a little turned on. There are far worse reactions. "I do find you very attractive, Erik, but..."

"Our case is closed. You're off the clock."

"You do have a point. May I think about it?"

"Of course."

Charles thinks about it for two days, and then calls Erik back and says that he'd like to buy him dinner first, and to discuss terms face to face. Erik can't really argue with this, and Emma immediately volunteers to look after Anya when she hears that Erik has a date. She'll have to move some meetings around, but she is adamant that she does not care and that at this point she would allow herself to be covered in honey and buried in an anthill if it would lead to Erik getting laid with a decent Alpha. He's actually moved, and tells her so, which makes her laugh.

She arrives in good time to get settled in with Anya, who is pleased to see Papa all dressed up, but also irked at being abandoned so near bedtime. Erik promises to bring back a fancy dessert to share, though, and Emma adds that she'll read her two stories and do voices if she doesn't fuss. Even a creature as tyrannical as a four-and-a-half-year-old has to admit that this is a good deal. Erik is meeting Charles outside the building to keep from giving Anya false hope if nothing more serious than a little heat relief comes of this, so he hugs and kisses her goodnight and heads out.

Erik waits for Charles at the nearest bus stop, since the buses aren't running and it looks like it's going to rain. He stands under the tiny roof as greyness turns to mist and then to a few actual, pattering droplets. Charles pulls up to the curb just as the sky opens up and the rain comes drilling down. It spares them any awkwardness or fussing about opening doors or even conversation at first, because Erik just bolts through the rain and throws himself into the passenger seat of Charles's car.

"Good Lord," Charles says as the raindrops thunder onto the roof, and Erik chuckles, shaking water out of his hair and brushing it off the shoulders of his jacket.

"Shall we haul anchor?" he says, buckling his seatbelt.

"I have to warn you," Charles says, starting the car, "I was never any good at rowing."

Erik smiles. "Don't worry, I am."

It's strange, how easy they are together. They're talking like they've been friends for years before they've even finished their soup. By the time Erik is sipping Sauternes and Charles is demolishing some appalling gooey type of triple-chocolate cake, he's feeling real, sappy fondness for the man. He's like a neater version of Anya, devouring his dessert with childlike relish. He notices Erik watching him and glances up, blushing. Erik smiles and that light flush deepens.

"You're adorable," he says softly, and Charles laughs.

"Thanks, I think."

"You think?"

"It's not the kind of compliment an Alpha usually gets."

"Yes. That makes it special," Erik says, taking another long sip as he lets that sink in. Charles returns his attention to his cake, risking a bashful glance up at Erik that makes him want to drag him across the table. Charles must sense it, because he sets his fork down and gestures for the check. Erik drains his glass, and soon they're on their way to Charles's apartment for a nightcap and to discuss the particulars of their arrangement. 

The building turns out to be old and elegant, in a moderately expensive part of the city. Charles has an overstuffed and comfortable home, full of books and fine old furniture. He's almost timid as he leads Erik in, making myriad little conciliatory gestures and exuding a slightly anxious and submissive scent that lingers on Erik's palate like the Sauternes. He's saying something about brandy and whether it would be better to talk on the couch or at the kitchen table when Erik stops him with a finger to his lips.

"Please yourself," he says, and kisses Charles softly.


	8. Chapter 8

They end up on the couch after all, making out like teenagers before finally tearing themselves away to actually drink their brandy and talk about Erik's heat. Charles is even more adorable with his mouth all reddened with kisses, and it keeps distracting Erik as they hammer out terms. There are contracts for this sort of thing, and Charles has printed up a pair of templates that they fill in together and sign, and Erik gets home with his copy just a bit before midnight. He kisses Charles one more time in the car, and walks to the building through what's left of the rain, carrying the little white carton of coconut cake to share with Anya.

She's supposed to be asleep, but Erik changes into freshly-laundered pajamas as soon as Emma has assured him that everything is all right, just in case. When he wakes up in the night with Anya cuddled in against his side, he's glad he doesn't reek of Charles.

"Hey, sweetie," he mumbles, cuddling her. "Bad dream?"

"No. Just wanted to hug you more if I have to go away."

"Aw, honey." He kisses the top of her head, nuzzling her to put even more of his scent on her than there is already. "You will have to go, but only for a little bit." The first portion of Erik's heat is the most intense, so he should only be hosting Charles for about three days. He'll need to change the bed before Anya comes back, but otherwise they should be able to go on as they have before.

"Still don't wanna," she mutters, sounding so much like a disgruntled Magda that it breaks Erik's heart. He strokes Anya's hair for a long moment, holding her close.

"You'll have a lot of fun with Emma," he says, and they talk about how Emma's building has a pool and is right by the Children's Museum of Art, one of Anya's favorite places in the entire world.

There's still another week before Erik is due for his heat, and he spends it preparing Anya and making sure she has everything she needs for her stay with Emma. She fusses because she'd rather stay with Angel, who's so close, but Angel's schedule is exactly wrong, and after realizing that she would have to sleep in an empty apartment, Anya is resigned. She still clings to Erik all of his first day, sniffling a bit when he puts her into Emma's arms at last.

"You can come back soon, sweetheart," Erik tells her, and feels a little weepy himself when Emma closes the door at last. He has a little while alone, now, because he and Charles have agreed that Charles won't show up until Anya is well away, to avoid giving her any kind of false hope. They're both open to something more serious coming of this, but Erik is very cautious about introducing Alphas to Anya. She barely remembers her Mommy, but she's very used to having her Papa all to herself, and must approve any new addition to the household. Charles understands, which is why he really might need Anya's approval. 

Erik shivers, no longer distracted from his heat by Anya. Unsedated and without his precious girl to look after, he realizes how hot he feels, pulling off his clothes in a dreamy daze. He always used to love this part. Needing Magda so badly and then finally getting her, deep inside. Now there's a thread of tension, something that feels almost like being untried, waiting to take his first knot. He worries that Charles won't come, or that his rut will somehow stink despite his normal smell being so lovely.

And then the scent is here, wafting around the door and that's a little too much like when Sebastian held him captive, so Erik scrambles to look through the peephole and make sure. Charles is out there, looking youthful and nervous, shifting his weight in a pair of old sneakers and worn jeans. He has a bag slung over his shoulder, and smiles like sunrise when Erik lets him in.

Erik can't think of a single word in any language, and Charles groans, dropping his bag as the door shuts behind him. He wraps his arms around Erik and tugs his head down and to t he side by the hair so he can bury himself in Erik's neck, huffing his scent like it's the only source of oxygen in the world. Both of them are shaking, and they just stand where they are for a long moment, paralyzed by need. And then Charles tears himself away with a pitiful little noise of longing. They have to wait, because Erik is paranoid and had demanded that Charles take his contraceptive tabs where he can see him do it. Now he curses himself over and over as Charles takes out the bottle of pills and a bottle of water and actually opens them like a normal human being and takes one of the square, red pills. They start to work almost instantly, at least, so the second he swallows Erik is clinging to him again, grinding against his hip and making pathetic little Omega noises, the needy little whimpers he makes at almost no other time.

"It's all right," Charles says softly, kissing him and moaning a little at his scent. "It's all right."

Erik is mostly past speech now, but manages to say, "Please..." as he gazes down into Charles's eyes.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," Charles whispers. He sounds awestruck, and gently pushes Erik toward the bedroom. "If I bite you'll I'll just have you right here on the floor." Erik is pretty sure he wouldn't mind, but he leads the way. Heat always makes him a little anxious to please, and Charles is right anyway. It's more comfortable here, and it's soaked with his scent. Charles groans and climbs onto the bed looking dazed. He moans Erik's name and wallows in the sheets for a moment before Erik joins him, rolling onto his back and pulling Charles onto him.

"Please," he says again, and Charles whines, scrambling out of his clothes. Erik is already so wet. His hole is brimming up with it, and there are slick streaks down his inner thighs and he needs Charles so badly he feels like he's about to cry. As usual, Charles understands. He shoves as deep into Erik as he can get, filling him in a second and making him wail because it's so good, so soft and sleek and hot and thick. He sobs Charles's name and digs his nails into his back, greedy for the kind of depth he'll only be able to get on all fours.


	9. Chapter 9

For the first round Erik just clings to Charles and takes it, crying out every time that high, round knot forces its way in or out. It's all the same with Erik so wet and clenching so tight. Premature holding is actually a medical problem, but Erik has never had a problem with it. Tight as he is now, he'll lock tighter still when they tie, and he mumbles disjointed words to that effet into Charles's ear, making him moan and speed up, jolting Erik back and forth on the mattress.

“Breed me,” Erik moans, and Charles sobs and grinds deeper and deeper into Erik, his balls drawing up in the moment before he comes deep inside Erik, who groans, locking around Charles and milking him for the last drops as he whimpers and buries his face in Erik's chest.

“Oh,” he whimpers, “oh fuck, fuck, Erik...” he trails off into a deep groan as he shudders and subsides. They lie together for a long time, Erik indescribably comforted by having the weight of an Alpha on him again. He makes happy little noises that would embarrass him at any other time, nuzzling in behind Charles's ear and breathing in his scent.

Of course after about ten minutes he wants more, rolling onto his belly and rising onto his knees, presenting his dripping hole. Charles moans, burying his face between Erik's legs to lap and suck at him, whimpering and covering his face in Erik's slick before lining up behind him and plunging in. This is the best way, Charles fucking into him as deep as physically possible, slamming his knot in and out and making Erik wail, arching his back so deeply that it will definitely ache later. Now he moans, coming and locking down on Charles as he keeps struggling to thrust, every attempt at movement making Erik moan and grip him even tighter, slick dripping from his half-hard cock.

Charles is sobbing by the time he finally comes, Erik squeezing him in hard, slow waves. He whines and begs, babbling incoherently into Erik's back about how he's so hot and so tight that it hurts but it's good and he wants Erik to take it all, to have everything he can give. Erik shudders and then cries out as Charles bites the crook of his neck, the feeling rolling through him in waves.

The whole first night is nothing but fucking, sticky and exhausting and wonderful. It has been so long for Erik that Charles can only keep him hydrated by feeding him water and juice while they're tied. Otherwise he can't bear to stop. Only when he's locked around Charles's knot, keeping him here, keeping him inside, is Erik calm. They finally catch a nap in the small hours, but Erik shakes Charles awake before noon, desperate to tie again. Charles takes his pills and obliges, barely keeping up despite his relative youth.

"Are you sure you're a mated Omega with a child?" Charles pants, locked inside him.

Erik just laughs. "It'll start showing pretty soon, believe me." His heat technically lasts a week, but after two or three days of frantic fucking, Erik will be more interested in sleeping and cuddling. For now he rolls Charles onto his back and rides him, his hands on Charles's shoulders for support at first, and then sliding up his arms to pin his hands to the mattress as he grinds down onto his knot. He teases himself with just the edge of it, rocking from side to side, rising up just a little and then grinding down again. Charles whines, struggling in Erik's grasp and staring up at him with pleading eyes. Erik chuckles, breathless and trembling He groans as he sinks down onto Charles's knot at last, taking it slowly. Even at half inflation it's huge, and Erik bites his lip, letting it go to cry out as the widest part forces its way in.

“Oh god,” Charles whimpers, sounding almost terrified of his own pleasure, “oh god, _Erik!_ ”

Erik just growls and fucks himself hard on Charles, staring down into his eyes as he whimpers, staring back with his mouth half-open. “Like that?” Erik growls, clenching hard on him. “Like it when I take what I want?”

“Yes!” Charles gasps, his eyes huge. “God, Erik, use me, use me, _please_...”

Erik growls, leaning down to bite his neck. Some Alphas get weird about this, but Charles seems to love it, tipping his head back and moaning. Erik shudders, draining every drop Charles has to give and then groaning as Charles rolls them over, already hardening for another round as Erik whimpers and squirms happily.

The second day is like the first the night, and Erik wakes Charles at five am. for more and keeps him busy until noon. Just when Charles swears that his balls are utterly drained and that if he comes one more fucking time there might be blood in it, Erik is sated. He can always feel the moment when it happens, because he starts to feel all his aches and pains and to get a bit depressed. He had meant to send Charles away before it really set in, but finds himself sniffling and clinging to Charles before he knows it.

“Are you crying, love?” Charles asks softly. He doesn't sound panicked, the way some Alphas do. In fact, he sounds so tender and so much like Magda that Erik bursts into real tears. Charles holds him and rocks him a bit, telling him how beautiful and sweet and precious he is, and how delicious his heat has been and that he doesn't need to worry about anything. Erik sighs, slowly relaxing. Charles helps him wipe his eyes and blow his nose, and then holds him as he falls asleep for a little while.

Erik wakes up in the late afternoon, and as he does after every heat, thinks that he has never been so hungry in his life. He sits up slowly, one hand to his belly and wondering if the front wall of his stomach really is touching his backbone. It's an awful feeling, and he's on the verge of new tears, still vulnerable and hormonal, when he smells food. He's most of the way out of the bedroom before a whiff of Beta registers. He pauses long enough to throw on a robe, and the delivery girl is just leaving when he emerges, saying, “Well, you take good care of him, now. Enjoy your pizza!”

Erik barely registers her presence at all, going directly to the pile of boxes on the table and opening the first one. It's black and green olive, but he crams a slice into his mouth anyway, devouring it as he looks for something that's not disgusting. He and Charles haven't really discussed pizza, so the other three are a plain cheese, a pepperoni, and what must be some kind of vegetarian special, with white sauce and spinach. He stacks one of each and takes an enormous bite of the resulting monstrosity, grease running down his wrist as Charles beams at him like this disgusting tableau is adorable.


	10. Chapter 10

Charles is a very good Alpha. He has the sense to shut up and let Erik eat enough slices to assemble an entire pizza before trying to talk to him, and brings a blanket from the bedroom to wrap around his shoulders before he's even half done scarfing them down. Only after Erik has wiped his hands and is looking over at him again does Charles speak, smiling fondly.

“Feeling better?”

“Much,” Erik says, because it's important to let an Alpha know that their food gifts are appreciated. He picks up his ninth slice, but just nibbles. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Erik, but now we have to talk about feelings.”

“Bleh,” Erik mutters, and Charles chuckles.

“I know. But I like you a lot and being part of your life and Anya's is something I want.” He nervously plucks up another slice of the olive. “Your turn.”

“...I have a hard time trusting people, and it's only worse now, but... You've been good to us, Charles. I want to see you again and I also want time to think.”

“I can absolutely live with both of those things,” Charles says.

“Fucking Sebastian,” Erik grumbles after a long silence. “I was just ready to try again, and now here we are.”

“Erik, he put you through life-changing trauma. That you could even call me...” Charles looks over at him with something complicated and sad in his eyes. “It took courage.”

Erik shivers, and they end up back in bed, Charles holding him again. He sighs, his arms wrapped over Charles's, their fingers laced together. The thought of sending him away is a miserable one, so Erik doesn't think, just melting into the mattress and into his Alpha's arms.

Four hours later than Erik meant to end this, Charles leaves. Erik walks him to the door and makes himself just kiss Charles's cheek and not cling.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he says, and Charles tells him that he's welcome in that helpless, understated way the British often use when in the grip of strong emotion. Erik smiles through his own distress, and ruffles Charles's hair. “I know who I'm calling next time,” he says, and Charles smiles back, smelling happier as he leaves. Erik watches him out of sight, and then sighs. It's midnight, and he has a task ahead of him that he meant to start at eight.

Not only is it basic clean-up to remove as much of the general stink of his own heat from the apartment as possible, but he has to strip off every bit of Charles that he can find. Anya has enough to deal with day-to-day without being taunted with Charles's presence when things are so far from sure. At least she's a Beta. Omegas are the most sensitive dynamic, needing to be able to find their children and measure Alpha quality and health as precisely as possible, and Alphas of course come second, where Betas just need a basic awareness of what and where everyone is. Anya has a good nose for a Beta, but by four in the morning Erik can hardly smell anything. He has had four showers, done more laundry than he wants to think about, and has sprayed a bottle and a half of Clear Air around the apartment. He groans and collapses into bed. He has to pick Anya up before Emma goes to work today, and it's almost five in the morning.

At least being a single parent has made Erik good at driving safely on two hours of sleep, because that's what he ends up doing. Emma is waiting for him, bless her heart. She'll be a bit late to the office, but she's waiting patiently and even letting Anya play with her phone, a rare privilege indeed. She looks up and smiles when Erik comes hurrying in.

“Relax, I warned them that I was watching Anya.”

“Still,” Erik says, settling onto the bench with them and pulling Anya into his lap as she finishes her game. He's glad that she's capable of ignoring him like this again, and kisses the top of her head as she matches colored tiles for another thirty seconds or so before getting a game over and setting the phone down to hug Erik tightly. “Ready to come home, baby girl?” he asks, and she giggles.

“Yeah!”

Erik chuckles and kisses her cheek, thanking Emma again and taking a quick look over Anya's bag to make sure they haven't forgotten anything. It's all there, thank god, no need to go upstairs and hunt for her little stuffed lamb or even for loose socks. They all walk out together, and Erik hugs Emma and thanks her for a third time

They get drive-thru breakfast on the way home, which is a treat for Anya, who is almost never allowed to eat anything so terrible. There are crumbs and little bits of hash brown all over the back seat by the time they get home, and Erik wonders if he'll ever be able to mind that again. Even though Anya is getting too big to carry, Erik carries her into the building and holds her for the elevator ride, just glad to be with her again. He sets her down when they reach the right floor, and she runs ahead of him down the hallway while he carries her bag.

Erik still has a while of his generous heat leave left, and he's planning to just sit Anya in front of some cartoons and slump in his chair until Angel begins her day and he can ask her to watch Anya while he has a nap. She'll probably be amenable, and Erik is dead tired. But there's no rest for the wicked. The second Anya steps through the door her little face crumples into a terrible mixture of anguish and rage, and she howls so loudly that the whole building must hear it.

“Mr. X is my favorite and you didn't tell me he was here!” she wails, and flings herself onto the floor to have the kind of tantrum Erik hasn't seen for over two years. He lets her tire herself out a bit, and then gathers her into his arms.

“Baby, baby, I'm so sorry,” he says softly, sitting on the floor and rocking her. She kicks and struggles a little, but Erik keeps her where she is, soothing her down into quiet tears and then through them, his heart breaking for her.

“I wanna talk to him,” she says, and Erik feels like he should forbid it but he can smell and feel perfectly well that it would set Anya off again.

“I can't promise he'll answer,” he says, because he always keeps his promises to Anya, “because he's working, but we can call him.” This mollifies her enough for him to be able to dry her tears, get her to blow her nose, and then pour her some juice. Once she's sitting at the kitchen counter, swinging her little feet and sipping cran-apple, Erik calls Charles's office, hoping that he's less exhausted.

This time he gets a human, a quiet boy who takes his name and puts the call through quickly. Charles sounds tired when he picks up, but also happy. “Erik?”

“Charles.” Erik suddenly feels like crying, still technically finishing out his heat and very emotional with it. “I... I didn't want Anya to know you had been here, but she scented you and she wants to see you.”

“...Oh. Okay,” Charles says, sounding stunned.

“Remember, our case is closed,” Erik says, and Charles laughs, and agrees to come over for dinner tonight when Erik asks.


	11. Chapter 11

After being allowed to say hi to Mr. X and hearing that he's going to visit them later, Anya is in a much better mood, which is lucky because Erik is still very tired, so she has to content herself with cuddles and cartoons. Erik gives her some candy as well, for being a good sport about her boring and sleepy Papa. He tries not to load his baby girl up with refined sugars, but she loves Starburst and is ecstatic when Erik opens a tube and gives her all the strawberry ones. He holds her in his lap while she eats them, and manages to stay awake until he can call Angel about watching Anya. For a rare piece of divine mercy she says that she'll be happy to, and that Erik can take Anya down the hall right now, freeing him up to take the nap he needs so badly.

Erik is worried that he won't be able to sleep, that he'll lie here worried and electrified and get up even less prepared to see Charles again than he is now, but it turns out that there's no reason for that. Sleep rolls him under like a crocodile as soon as his breathing slows, and he doesn't wake up until the doorbell rings, followed by an insistent knocking.

“I know you need your beauty sleep, papa,” Angel calls through the door, “but the kid is hungry and I've got stuff to do before my shift.” Erik leaps up and opens the door, hugging Anya as she gloms onto him and thanking Angel profusely. She just smiles. “It's all right. You wanna do something for me, you can come over tomorrow and crawl around under the sink, 'cause I think that leak has started up again.”

Erik smiles, lifting Anya up onto his hip. “I will.”

“And good luck with your dinner date,” Angel adds, winking. Erik rolls his eyes and she laughs, waving to Anya as she heads back to her apartment.

“When is Mr. X coming?” Anya asks, vibrating with excitement.

“Soon, baby girl,” Erik tells her, shutting the door and walking into the kitchen with her. “But let's get you a snack before that.”

While Anya devours a bowl of sliced fruit, Erik starts dinner. He feels a very stereotypical Omega urge to make a nice meal for his prospective Alpha, and has to remind himself again and again not to go overboard. As it is, he makes his mother's brisket recipe and an inordinate amount of side dishes. It's not a Thanksgiving-level surplus, but it is a pretty excessive amount of food for three people. Anya reminds him about Mr. X's favorite dishes and condiments, and does her best to help, still too small to be much use. Erik is to looking forward to cooking with her as she gets older, though. The thought gives him one of those moments of vertigo, when he imagines some other, terrible world where Anya really did die that day. He hugs her until she complains, and then lets her go to check on the meat in the oven.

By the time Charles actually shows up, Erik is a nervous wreck. He's on his third outfit, a compromise between his Alpha-ish uniform of a dark turtleneck with jeans or slacks and the current fad for floaty, billowing looks for Omegas. Anya had been the one to decide, in her capacity as fashion consultant, insisting on 'the shirt that's supposed to be wrinkly,' which means the surplice-necked, drop-waisted tunic he picked up year before last at Emma's insistence that he wear something Omega-y once in a while. It's not as if he doesn't like the thing. It's a soft material that falls beautifully, and a rich, subtle shade of silvery-grey that Emma assures him does stunning things for his eyes. 

He wonders if it's too much of a departure from normal, but fuck it, he has put on perfume for the first time in at least eight months, an expensive blend that Magda used to buy for him. Each bottle lasts for years, so he still has plenty of the dry, smoky scent, just touched with vanilla. It's designed to praise an Omega's natural scent, like all good perfumes, and turns his own sweet musk into a soft, nearly touchable cloud. Erik has just decided that a silver collar isn't too much but that candles are when the doorbell rings. He leaves his father's heavy silver candlesticks in their cabinet, going to answer it.

Anya rushes to open it, but stops just in time, calling for Erik to hurry up and look through the peephole. He's there in a second, and of course when he looks out he sees Charles, holding a bottle of wine and looking adorably sheepish and hopeful. Someone has clearly helped him dress, and Erik appreciates the effort.

Erik still has no idea what to say when he lets Charles in, but Anya settles that for them, shrieking, “Mr. X!” and leaping on him, latching on like an extremely affectionate barnacle. 

Charles laughs softly, sounding touched and awkward. “Good evening, Anya,” he says, ruffling her hair with his free hand. She giggles and hugs his leg as he hands Erik the wine, their eyes and hands meeting at the same time. Erik is glad that his hands don't shake. Charles crouches to hug Anya, grinning at her as she chides him for trying to fool her.

“I'm sorry, Anya,” he says, and glances back up at Erik. “We were being silly.”

Erik chuckles. “Yes, we were,” he says, and opens the bottle to breathe, since everything is ready.

He sets it on the table and goes to check on the overabundance of food. The apartment is small, but the kitchen is capacious, space sacrificed in places where it matters far less, like Anya's tiny bedroom and the living room with its brand new carpet. Erik still can't notice the carpet too much without getting shaky and enraged and sick, but that's all right. He and Anya always ate in the kitchen, anyway.

Now Anya leads Charles to his seat with great ceremony, and he keeps a straight face as he sits down. By the time Erik has everything ready to serve, Anya is laying out the ground rules and most important responsibilities of being her papa's Alpha.

Erik groans, setting a loaded plate in front of each of them. “Anya, we mustn't get ahead of ourselves.”

Charles gives him a shy smile. “I'm not so certain that we are, Erik.”

“...Perhaps not,” Erik admits.

Thankfully, after all the trouble Erik has been to, Charles claims to love everything on the table and eats like it's as least partially true. Anya tears into her beef like a starving wolf, and Erik does his best to keep her from getting gravy absolutely everywhere. It's a good sign for the future that Charles tries to help with that and give Erik more time to feed himself, and now Erik has to admit that he's been keeping that mental tally of an Alpha's behavior that only starts when he's really serious about someone.

Anya is of course hyperactive after dinner, but by delaying dessert and chasing her all over the apartment, he can put her to bed right at half-past eight. Yawning and heavy-eyed, she complains as he tucks her in that she's missing time with Mr. X, who is her favorite. Erik promises that she'll see him again soon, and he reads the story tonight, a mark of how serious she is about wanting Charles to be part of the family.

They tiptoe out, Erik switching on Anya's night-light as they go, bathing the room in the soft, blue-green glow she prefers. With the door shut behind them, Charles grins at Erik.

“Ridiculous boy,” Erik says, but leans in and kisses him just the same. This soon after his heat, Erik has no interest in sleeping with anyone in the figurative way, but after drinks and chess, he can't resist making it literal with Charles.

Anya's gloating when she bounces in to wake her papa for breakfast the next morning to find Mr. X tucked in next to him would be unbearable if it weren't so cute.

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh finally done, sorry. @_@


End file.
